


sleep inertia

by gaysinspace



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysinspace/pseuds/gaysinspace
Summary: Sleep inertia:A physiological state of impaired cognitive and sensory-motor performance that is present immediately after awakening. It persists during the transition of sleep to wakefulness, where an individual will experience feelings of drowsiness, disorientation and a decline in motor dexterity.Paul Stamets is a sleepy mess, Hugh is unhelpful, and Tilly is essentially just caught in the crossfire.





	sleep inertia

Anyone who spent 30 seconds in the same room as Paul Stamets could instinctively tell he was not a morning person.

When he’s up and running, there’s almost no possible way to make him stop. He vibrates with bottled up energy, his blue eyes always searching for more, faster,  _ better _ . The added pressure of the war only seemed to fuel this fire. Despite his resistance to Lorca’s methods, he wanted nothing more than to find answers for all the questions that seemed to rise every day. Paul Stamets ran entirely on breakthroughs, information and, quite honestly, spite.

Hugh would say that a Paul Stamets in motion tended to remain in motion — however, a Paul Stamets at rest was very happy to remain at rest. And almost impossible to get  _ out _ of rest. Leave it to Hugh to apply Newton’s first law to his own partner.

This law, of course, only applied when a certain lieutenant wasn’t being forced into movement by a constant buzzing alerting him someone was outside his quarters, quite impatiently judging by the short intervals between each buzz. All his brain could process was that whoever the hell was outside at this fucking hour better have a damn good reason to wake him up.

After attempting to ignore the noise for a solid (and heavenly) couple of minutes, the lieutenant allowed himself a soft groan into the pillow he held over his face before willing (read: forcing) his body to cooperate. The warmth of the sheets seemed to be pulling him back as he rolled over, whispering for him to come back to them and never leave again. God, he wished. He gave his eyes a gentle rub with the heel of his hands and winced as his bare feet made contact with the cold floor, making his way slowly towards the door and muttering under his breath at the injustice of the situation. Here he was, single handedly creating Starfleet’s greatest secret weapon which could essentially win them the war, and yet he couldn’t be afforded a few hours of peaceful rest.

“Computer, unlock door,” he murmured dispassionately, standing in the arch of the doorway and wincing as the light from the hallway flooded the room, rendering him unable to see properly for a few seconds. He pinched the bridge of his nose as flares danced in his vision, choosing to keep his eyes closed before subjecting himself to the god-awful lighting of the rest of the ship.

He really should have been less surprised to see a certain wild-haired Cadet standing outside his door with a stack of PADDs at this unholy hour, but his brain was in no functional state as of now and he could barely register the fact that he was standing in his pajamas in front of someone who was essentially his subordinate.

“This better be good, Cadet,” Paul muttered through a stifled yawn, taking one of the data PADDs from the top of the pile the cadet was balancing so he could better understand whatever it was that had brought her here. It seemed to be some sort of biomedical data, a paper theorizing about the successful application of alien stem cells into humans. Maybe it was because his head wasn’t working with him here, but none of this really made any sense.

“Why are you bringing me a paper on—” he began, his frustration very evidently leaking into his tone. He wasn’t able to get far into his sentence before Tilly interrupted.

“You’re not Dr. Culber”.

It took a couple of seconds, but Paul’s body caught up with the situation a lot faster than his brain did. His heart rate skyrocketed and his eyes widened while his brain worked at what felt like triple-time to figure out what the fuck was going on in here on this day.

It all came together rather quickly when he heard a soft peal of laughter coming from the general direction of the bed, and he had to resist the overwhelming urge to bang his head against the nearest available surface.

He licked his lips, giving his mind some time to come up with an appropriate reaction to the situation. It was all in vain, truthfully, because the only thing his brain provided resulted in him opening and closing his mouth without any output of words, probably in close resemblance to a fish out of water.

“No… I’m not,” was the brilliant response he settled on. It took all his self control not to whip his head around to give Hugh an offended stare when he heard a snort poorly disguised as a cough coming from the bed.

Tilly had the decency not to show an outward reaction to his rather obvious statement. However, Paul could see Tilly’s eyes shining with a hint of panic, and he wished he could throw a bone here and dig them both out of this hole as soon as possible.

Paul’s brain, apparently, had brought its shovel and was ready to dig an even deeper hole.

“Hugh--  _ Doctor _ Hu-- Doctor  _ Culber _ is, uh…” he risked a glance over his shoulder to where Hugh lied, still shirtless, on his side of the bed. He could also see him holding his fist to his mouth, gently biting on his thumb in an attempt not to laugh out loud. “He’s… unavailable.”

“I-- I mean, I figured. Makes sense, really, at this time.” Tilly allowed herself a nervous laugh, attempting to blow a strand of hair off her face as her hands were occupied with the PADDs. “I just-- I’m sorry, Dr. Culber’s quarters were listed as being here and, uh, I guess for whatever reason you weren’t listed as being in the quarters  _ with _ him, even though, duh, I guess because you two are… yeah.”

Paul’s tired brain struggled to keep up with her rambling. God, did she always talk this fast? Could functional daytime Paul keep up with that? Honestly, 10 points to daytime Paul, that was a solid accomplishment.

“Yeah… we are…” Paul whispered, rubbing a hand over his face at the sheer awkwardness of the situation at hand. Hugh apparently deemed it appropriate to get involved at this moment, as a very cheerful “Hi, Tilly!” came from the bed.

“Hello Dr. Hugh -- Dr.  _ Culber _ ” Tilly closed her eyes, and Paul tried not to laugh as he heard the cadet gently whisper “fuck” to herself.

“Are those the reports on the Bajoran stem cell trials you were telling me about?” Hugh contributed, not even bothering to get up or actually make an effort to incorporate himself into this situation, the little shit.

“Y-yeah. I also found some reports of funding being put into research on, uh—” Tilly tilted her head to read the file on one of the PADDs near the top —“Haakonian stem cells.”

“Oh, lovely,” Hugh added with way more enthusiasm than he ought to have. Paul began to feel like an awkward, unnecessary middleman in this conversation. He was preparing his retreat when Hugh chimed in, “How about you leave those reports with my handsome doorman and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can?”

Sylvia all but dumped the data PADDs into Paul’s arms, extremely grateful for the opportunity to book it the hell out of there as soon as humanly possible. “Yeah, no problem, take your time! Thank you sir--  _ sirs, _ ” she managed before all but disappearing down the hallway. Paul stood in the doorway like an idiot for a couple more seconds before he properly registered the situation, and finally allowed himself to breathe when the soft  _ whoosh _ of the quarter doors closing filled the room.

He was allowed barely a second of respite before Hugh collapsed into breathless laughter, falling back into the bed as his body shook with what could only be described as euphoric  _ giggles _ .

“Oh, babe, we really need to start asking who they’re looking for  _ before _ we open the door,” Hugh managed between laughs, only to have them quickly resume and increase in volume as soon as he saw the expression Paul wore as he stood in the middle of the room, PADDs still in his arms.

“I… I’m going the fuck back to bed,” was all Paul managed before dropping the PADDs on the table in an unceremonious pile. He all but launched himself back into the warmth of the sheets, turning his back towards Hugh defensively as the other man still struggled for breath.

“I’m just thankful she got here when she did, 'cause a couple hours earlier this would’ve been a  _ completely _ different scene,” Hugh said, rolling over to drape his arm on Paul’s waist. “Imagine the trauma we would’ve given the poor girl if she’d come knocking when we were… occupied.”

Paul cursed his pale skin when he felt the inevitable blush crawl up his neck, recalling the events of earlier that night, namely his uniform being torn open and a rather impressive hickey sitting just below the neckline of his pajamas,  _ thank the lord. _

“Shut up,” was all he provided, and Hugh planted a soft kiss on his neck that was interrupted by one last peal of laughter.

Paul’s body softened against Hugh’s touch, allowing himself to be moved until his head was resting on his partner’s chest and he could feel his heartbeat beneath his temple.

“We really need to update the ship’s quarter records,” he muttered, and Hugh gave an absentminded nod. The last thing Paul remembers before falling into a deep, blissful (and hopefully amnesiac) sleep was Hugh’s hand gently combing his hair, and the vibration of the man’s chest as he said, “I don’t know, I think it’s pretty funny how this keeps happening.”

If he had been more awake, Paul would’ve sat upright and demanded an explanation. But right now he was exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to melt into Hugh’s body and allow himself some much needed hours of rest.

 

* * *

 

“How did I not know this. Does everyone know this? Why don’t people tell me things.”

“Tilly, I’ve been on this ship for a month and even I knew this,” Michael provided matter of factly, not even bothering to look up from the report she was reading as she sipped her tea.

“I always assumed Chief Stamets would live alone, because of his messy schedule… or just in the engineering room, because it’s not like he ever leaves. Have you ever seen him leave? No! Touché.”

“Cadet,” Michael muttered, lowering her mug on to the table, “we really need to work on your observation skills if you want to make captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my pals jim jam and gi for the beta!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr as [sspock](www.sspock.tumblr.com) or over on [spaceboos](www.spaceboos.tumblr.com) and on twitter as [@boldlygaying](www.twitter.com/boldlygaying) :3c
> 
> Comments fuel me so please drop some below <3


End file.
